Hidden Flaws
by bananasplit92
Summary: In which the twins try to help their various friends overcome their lesser seen imperfections. Chapter 5 finally up: Haldir can't cook, and neither can twins. Complete!
1. Legolas

**We're all fanatically jealous about how Legolas seems to have it all: beauty, skills and everything else. And we know it. But what if he's not really as all-rounded as we thought? Don't worry though, he's still as pretty as ever. I can never bear to change that part of him. **

**Do not own LOTR. What the characters would be doing if I did...**

Hidden Flaw

"A bear."

"A tiger."

"It's a bear!"

"You nitwit, bears don't have stripes!"

"It's _neither!_"

Elladan and Elrohir stopped arguing about the identity of the strangely shaped blob of colourful paint and turned around. "So what is it?"

Poor Legolas looked like he would have liked to murder the twins in the most painful, horrific way ever invented in Middle Earth. "It's a pig!"

Elrohir gaped. "Pigs don't have stripes!" He soon realised that he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life.

"_They aren't stripes! They're tears!" _Legolas then proceeded to try beating Elrohir to death with a conveniently placed bottle of wine.

"How are _those_- OW!...tears? They're RED!"

Elladan had moved round the table for a better view of the... animal. He ignored his dying brother's pleas for help and tried looking at the...masterpiece... objectively. Personally he couldn't see how any animal could possibly involve red stripes on a pale pink and vaguely oval-shaped background, not to mention that the colours had somewhat blended together due to overuse of water. But he was trying his best.

"Where's the...head?"

Bad move. Legolas abandoned trying to kill Elrohir, who was half-dead anyway, and attacked Elladan with the bottle instead. Said bottle was a lot more dangerous now because it had broken after the assault on Elrohir's unfortunate cranium.

"It's the part that the tears _come from!_"

Elladan winced as he tried, rather vainly, to avoid a madly swinging bottle. "Legolas, I know you -OW!- tried your best on this thing, but we're -OW!- giving constructive advice here -OW!- and that thing looks like no living animal I've ever seen!" Elladan rushed the last part of the sentence out as fast as he could. That said, he collapsed on the sofa. And found the strength to try killing his twin brother.

"Do you _have _to have a head so hard it can break glass bottles? You don't need a head that hard so I'll take it off for you!"

It was in-between struggles, kicks and insults that the rather immature twins noticed that both Legolas and his precious painting were gone.

"Where did'e go?"

_**Somewhere else in Rivendell...**_

Aragorn had finally found the time for a much-needed nap when a certain blond Mirkwood archer burst into the cluttered room, brandishing a piece of paper at him.

"Legolas, what the... Is that a donkey? Why is it pink -"

CRASH.

Aragorn finally got the nap he'd been looking forward to for months.

_**The Shire...**_

Sam was sitting miserably in a corner of the bar trying to work up the guts to ask Rosie Cotton to go out with him. So far, it would seem that this was not working. Misery was interrupted, however, by shock as a tall blond figure hurriedly made its way over to his table, attracting the attention of the entire bar as it went, being twice as tall as the tallest hobbit in there. It waved a limp sheet of coloured paper at him.

"Master Legolas, why are you in the Shire... And why're you showing me a pink rabbit?"

THUMP.

On the bright side, Rosie had to tend his bruised head before he developed concussion.

_**Mirkwood...**_

Legolas had almost given up. He was feeling no end depressed. Were his art skills really that nonexistent? After his having lived in Mirkwood a couple thousand years and all, where the elves were so apt at creating objects of grace and beauty...

King Thranduil was pleased to have a break from the constant problems his people always seemed to have. How was he supposed to know why that certain young elf's toys always broke so easily? But now there seemed to be a pause in their troubles and he was enjoying the peace and quiet. This was improved even more as he saw his son arriving back from wherever he'd been for so long. Though he looked to be in a great hurry. Ah, it must be an important letter he was carrying. The King felt proud to know that Legolas had done well in his travels and earned the respect and trust of others.

Legolas made his way swiftly to his father. He needed to find out the opinion of the person he respected the most, the person who would probably understand him best of everyone he knew. He ignored the way everyone immediately greeted him and welcomed him home. He had more important things to worry about at the moment.

Thranduil took the folded piece of paper that Legolas handed him and opened it. There was a pause.

"Legolas... What is the meaning of showing me a child's painting?"

_End_

**A/N: This was... unexpectedly short. My oneshots are usually over 1000 words. Oh well. I don't know what's with me and pink and Legolas. I think they match well. Don't flame me for that. But anyway, I wrote this because I thought, what if Legolas wasn't perfect, and we just didn't know it? Besides the fact that he wouldn't have quite as many fangirls.**


	2. Aragorn

**I decided it was too fun writing about people's flaws to stop at just one. Therefore this is no longer a oneshot. Mainly writing now to cheer myself up because I'm feeling depressed at my nonexistent music talent. **

**I do not own LOTR, neither am I making money out of this fic. **

Hidden Flaw: Aragorn

Aragorn had been planning to spend his birthday quietly and peacefully with Arwen, maybe a day off his duties, dinner somewhere nice, and so on. What with wars and such, a day of peace and quiet seemed a very appealing idea.

But no.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY ARAGORN!!!!"

Above mentioned soon-to-be king started violently and fell out of bed. He rubbed his eyes blearily and opened them only to be greeted by a pair of identical grinning faces.

A bad dream and double vision?

No such luck. He soon registered the annoyance as the two worst beings ever brought into Middle Earth. Who were unfortunately, very real.

"Oh no..."

"Oh yes! Come on Aragorn, your thoughtful brothers traveled all this distance just to wish you happy birthday! Look happier!" Elrohir tried to pinch Aragorn's cheeks like he used to when the latter was five. Aragorn, now in fact a full grown man, swatted the hands away and got up.

"Your room is down the corridor."

"Yes, but you have to admit, it's a _very long _corridor. But that's not the point. The point is, we came to personally deliver your birthday present! Ta- DA!" From behind Elrohir's back swung a large round bottle. "A whole bottle of Rivendell's finest wine! Drink up, babykins!"

Aragorn paled ever so slightly, but accepted the bottle. Something was fishy, however. "Something's not right. You never do this. Out with it, what do you want from me."

"But, but, Aragorn, we just wanted to wish you happy birthday! You hate it?" It was remarkable how Elladan was able to sprout rivers of tears at will. Aragorn gave in. It was unnerving to see his elder brother behaving like an even younger child than usual. "Fine, I'll take it. But you swear there's nothing more behind this?"

Aragorn shuddered at the sight of the two pairs of glistening puppy eyes that answered his last question.

_**Several hours later...**_

Arwen was tidying up in Aragorn's room, sighing audibly at the distress it seemed to be in.

"Men..."

In the midst of separating the clean and dirty clothes that carpeted his bedroom floor, she caught sight of a bottle sitting a little too innocently on his bedside table. Picking it up, she recognised it to be one of the best wines Rivendell had to offer. Smiling a little to herself, she made a note to use it for the evening's dinner with Aragorn.

She failed to notice, however, how the table on which it had been sitting was spotless, when every other flat surface in the room was cluttered with as many things as would fit onto it.

_**Even more hours later...**_

"That was good. Thank you." Aragorn put down his knife and fork.

Arwen smiled. It was always nice to hear some appreciation. She disappeared for a bit then emerged again, this time carefully holding two glasses of a reddish liquid. She offered one to Aragorn, then settled herself daintily in her chair.

Aragorn peered warily into the glass. "What kind of wine is this?"

"The best. You should savour it."

Aragorn swallowed his uneasiness and sipped the drink tentatively. He didn't want to spoil the evening for Arwen.

-

Aragorn excused himself as quickly as possible without getting Arwen suspicious, and dashed back to his room. He could already feel the beginnings of a headache coming on. Groaning, he took a cold shower and went to bed. Maybe if he got as much sleep as he could it wouldn't be so bad. He already knew what would happen the next morning. He never had been able to hold much alcohol... Well, just his luck. He'd have to deal with it.

Drifting into sleep, Aragorn didn't hear the excited whispers coming from under his bedroom window.

-

A strange shadow over his face woke Aragorn up the next morning. He tried to open his eyes, but the hangover was coming on much more fiercely than he'd thought it would. His head was spinning and splitting at the same time. He should have known when Arwen said that wine was "the best", that the alcohol content would be sky high. Maybe he'd just go back to sleep... But.

"Poor little babykins. Can't hold his alcohol? Maybe we forgot something."

No. No no no no no no no. His head must be doing things to him. He was hearing things, right? Right? Nothing for it, then.

He opened his eyes.

The headache increased thousandfold.

Those faces again! And a box of painkillers. He might as well kill himself then and there.

"HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY ARAGORN!!!!"

_End_


	3. Glorfindel

**Do not own LOTR or any of it's characters. Good thing for them too.**

Glorfindel

The Rivendell twins were missing again.

This was a bad sign.

Glorfindel was also missing.

This was an even worse sign.

Erestor had been frantically searching for the elusive trio for a long time. He'd lost track of how long, and for this to happen to an elf, it had indeed been a very long time. As the seconds ticked by, his concern doubled. But it was not for the twins, mind you, it was for whoever they were tormenting at the moment.

-

Namely, Glorfindel.

-

"Come on, what's an elf who can't sing?"

"I _can so _sing!"

Elladan sighed. "Come off it, Glorfindel. We all heard you sing at... Whose funeral was that again?" He turned to his twin brother, who shrugged and smirked.

"Whoever. But the fact remains, Glorfindel. You. Can. Not. Sing."

Glorfindel cowered behind the closest potted plant while Elrohir bounced into the argument. "But luckily for you, Finny, we're here to help!"

Glorfindel whimpered and crouched even lower behind the geranium he'd grabbed off the windowsill. Anything to put even a bit of distance between him and those demons.

-

Estel trudged wearily back into his room after a trying morning of practice. Was it really necessary to spend a full five hours aiming arrows at a spot on the wall? He dragged himself into his room looking forward to a good long bath. Yeah yeah, stop sniggering.

Instead he found a river.

And his brothers. And a sopping wet and spluttering Glorfindel.

"What... IS GOING ON IN HERE?"

"We're training Glorfy."

Estel sat down on the edge of the overflowing bath and tried to convince himself that there had to be a perfectly good explanation for everything.

"For what? Last time I checked, he could swim."

-

"SINGING?"

"Yup! We all know that the most important thing for singing is a strong voice that comes from the soul." Elrohir stood up and paced the bathroom, doing his best impersonation of a knowledgeable old lecturer. "And the one and only way to do that is to strengthen the lungs!" He waved his index finger back and forth.

Glorfindel paled and squeaked.

Elladan paid him no attention and continued where his twin had left off. "Hence, we came up with a surefire way to accomplish the goal!" he waved nonchalantly at the overflowing tub.

Estel had never felt more sorry for anyone than he did for Glorfindel at that moment. "Leave poor Glorfindel alone. What was he, the first living thing you spotted after you had this idea and hence your unfortunate victim?"

Elrohir choked on the strawberry milkshake he had in hand. "Don't insult us, he is our privileged student. We gave the matter much thought before we decided to take him, because of his dire need for training."

And with that, they shoved Estel out of the bathroom with an insistent "Now leave us alone, our student awaits our brilliant instruction."

Estel secretly thought that a gifted elf warrior should be able to defend himself better than that, but feeling bad about Glorfindel's rather fruitless pleas for help, he decided to get some and rescue him.

-

"Now, practice makes perfect, so you need plenty of practice, because you're pretty far from perfect. So stand here, and sing whatever comes to mind." The twins placed Glorfindel in the middle of a large garden, and leaned back in a couple of comfortable chairs.

-

It wasn't the first time Elrond had wished his sons had never existed. True, they brought a lot of colour into life in Imladris, but the trouble they caused probably outweighed that a couple of million times.

Following Estel down the long corridors, he silently braced himself for the state Glorfindel would be in right now. Not everyone in Rivendell knew that Glorfindel hated water. Baths were well and fine, but the elf just didn't like water otherwise. Elrond had quite made up his mind that his sons had found out and so cooked up an excuse to torture Glorfindel with it.

In Estel's bathroom, however, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, discounting the massive amounts of water on the floor, and spilling slowly out of the tub onto a rack of towels. Estel looked confused, but not for long.

Both he and Elrond slammed their palms over their ears as a wave of gurgling came drifting in from the garden outside. Before long it died off, and father and (adopted) son exchanged a panicked yet knowing look, right before they dashed out the door.

-

On reaching the source of the... noises, Elrond had to say, that he'd never been so disturbed in the thousands of years he'd been alive. First, there was Glorfindel. Elves were not supposed to stand in the middle of gardens making gurgling noises wearing buckets on their heads. Next, there was that pair of twins. Elves were not supposed to lie around on brightly coloured pillows in gardens. Wearing scarves around their heads. Sipping milkshakes.

"Keep singing, Glorfindel, after echoing around in there a bit more you'll be able to hear the bits you need to improve." The twins remained blissfully unaware of their father's murderous aura.

Glancing at Estel, Elrond found a statue. Estel seemed to have blacked out cold while still standing, and with his eyes wide open to boot. Turning to look at Erestor beside him, Elrond found a fountain of exasperated tears. Nothing for it, he'd have to deal with the trio himself.

The first thing he did was force himself to approach Glorfindel and pluck off the bucket. Fortunately, Glorfindel realised his situation immediately and stopped... Singing. Elrond glared at him as venomously as he could, then proceeded to stride purposefully toward his wayward sons. Elladan and Elrohir were mildly surprised to have their scarves violently yanked off their heads. This mild surprise would turn speedily into dismay at seeing Elrond this close to erupting. Also, a very pissed off Estel who wanted to murder them for re enacting Atlantis with his bathroom. Thinking quickly, they turned to Glorfindel.

"You improved, right? Show them. Please?"

**A/N: I went off track (hangs head) and this ended up more about the twins than about Glorfindel. This wasn't supposed to happen... And... credits, credits. The head in bucket idea was from Princess Princess D. So that part isn't mine. Other than that, it is.**


	4. Erestor

**My goodness, I can't remember when it was that I last wrote. It seems eons ago. Anyway, I hope no one's mad at me for delaying this long. Or maybe you're all mad at me for posting again (hides) Well, regardless. Hope you like the new chapter!**

**Again, I regret to say that none of the LOTR characters, unfortunately, are mine.**

Erestor

There was to be yet another celebration in Rivendell. Most would have thought it was to celebrate Arwen's official engagement to Aragorn, but those actually close to them already knew they were practically married anyway. With Arwen mercilessly berating her mate for everything he'd done, everything he'd not done, and just about everything else.

To be honest, no one quite knew what there was to celebrate. Aragorn insisted it was in commemoration of his great deeds, and Arwen insisted that the only great deed he'd ever done was drinking a whole keg of wine in one sitting and then breaking the world record of most amount of puke in five minutes.

To be honest, no one knew what there was to celebrate.

But in Rivendell, where there'd been so many celebrations already, that wasn't so necessary.

What _was _important was that this time, the entire city was invited, not just the high-and-mighty preppy important people. And of course, no one was passing up this chance for free food and wine.

-

"And a party isn't a party at all without the dance!"

Erestor winced at the all too familiar voice and the two long shadows that had just appeared over his shoulder.

He really didn't want to turn around. But he was caught anyway by the long arm of Elrohir. And heard the malicious laughter that could probably even outdo Sauron himself on a good day.

At the sight of the identical evil grins that kept closing in around him, Erestor was reminded of why he'd wished before that elves weren't immortal. Trying to keep himself from passing out, he racked his brains for anything he'd done before that deserved such punishment. The twins didn't notice.

"...You see, Erestor, you've been helping out in celebrations and things since the Valar knows when, and yet you've never ever taken part, have you?" The smile on Elladan's face was eerily saccharine. It should be a crime for those two to be allowed to smile, seeing as every time they did, someone always ended up half dead at the very least.

Elrohir picked up where his brother left off, saying animatedly, "So this time, we've decided that you should take a nice break and enjoy yourself. Take part in the fun and relax. Therefore, we're going to teach you to dance!"

Erestor stared.

"You need some fun in your life. Now now, it's no trouble at all, we're pleased to help, so don't look so worried." Elrohir flashed his trademark smile, notorious for sending any living being within a ten mile radius running for dear life. "You've done so much for us, it's only right that we pay you back."

Erestor whimpered.

Elladan had been watching the scene unfold with a rather thoughtful look on his face. Always a bad sign. He spoke up in a bit. "Which dance do you think would suit Erestor? I mean, we never really thought about that." He pointedly ignored the elf in the corner desperately trying to get a word in. "The Waltz, you think? Or the Foxtrot," He snickered. "Or the Salsa, or..." He stopped and looked edgewise at the spluttering Erestor, then at his twin, all the while redefining 'evil' over and over again. "The Tango." _(1)_

Erestor fainted.

-

"Now Erestor, you probably have absolutely no sense of rhythm at all, so you need to learn the basic steps and fit them into the rhythm, okay? Erestor?" Elrohir turned from his poetic pose and spotted his brother trying to lug a very lifeless Erestor off a couch. "Oh dear, we can't teach him if he's all dead, now can we?"

At that moment they heard thundering footsteps coming down the corridor, and lifted their heads to see an explosive Lord Elrond bursting through the door. "Uh oh..."

"What...Am I...Going to do...WITH THE TWO OF YOU???!!!" Elrond was positively boiling. His face was all red like he'd been drinking, and the twins could almost see him evaporating on the spot. In a child's bedtime story, he would have fizzled away completely and left a simmering spot on the marbled carpet. This time, though, he was unfortunately very real, and he wasn't going anywhere.

The loud noise woke the resident Sleeping Beauty, who quickly assessed the situation and scuttled to hide behind Elrond. The twins rolled their eyes, but hid it and returned a sheepish gaze to their exasperated father.

Back in Elrond's study (he'd decided they had better not disturb the entire city, especially as he didn't want the practising archers to shoot themselves in their shock), he had the twins before him, and was trying to decide how to deal with them. He had calmed down somewhat, though still fuming, he was now fuming quietly instead.

Elladan found the courage to voice the thought that had been nagging at him for a while now. "Ada, how did you find out?"

Elrond snorted. "Haldir happened to pass by and heard you. He reported the matter to me. But don't think you can distract me. I have just decided on a punishment for you."

-

While dance music played and people feasted, a disgruntled pair of twins sat in a corner looking pitiful. They looked at the guards in front of them, but and gave up the idea of sneaking away. Talented as they were they couldn't hope to get past four of Rivendell's best fighters. Elrohir sulked and tried to find solace in the thought that his father though him good enough to waste four of his best men on.

The two had lived long enough to forget the number of parties they had attended, it was a formidably long list. But it didn't mean they could miss one and not sulk about it. They, of course, forgot that they'd still be alive for a long time yet and that there would be countless other parties they could attend. Literally. Elrohir took the opportunity to test out an escape tactic he'd been thinking about.

He put on his sweetest smile and looked up at the solemn guard before him. "Would you like a dance lesson too?" He gulped as the very sharp point of a spear was shoved into his face. Apparently not.

He settled himself back into his chair and continued sulking. He needed someone to blame for his current plight. Right beside him, his brother Elladan was thinking the exact same thing.

Haldir was going to pay for this.

_(1): The Tango was an olden-day dance originally danced by prostitutes. So you can imagine._

**A/N: Phew. I thought I'd lost my touch. Well personally I like this chapter, although the last 2 or 3 chapters seem to be twins- centric. Oh well. Another chapter coming up, soon I hope. And I think I'll make it the last chapter. Well, you probably know who the victim is in there, heh. Until then!**


	5. Haldir

**A/N: I celebrate by completely unplanned, unintentional, unofficial year-long hiatus from fanfiction writing, with a new chapter that will complete my fic. Sorry to anyone, if any, who's mad at me for not updating until now. Sorry also to the rest of the people who are facepalming at the reappearance of this particular fic. But without further ado, I bring you my latest chapter.**

**Disclaimer: The day that snow falls in Kenya, I will own this lovely series and all the characters I so joyfully play about with. Unfortunately enough. Kenya Does Not Snow.**

Haldir

The pot bubbled mirthfully on the fire. Haldir glowered not-so-cheerily on a chair before it.

And the pile of cookbooks towered threateningly over them both.

Footsteps sounded some distance outside the room, and Haldir looked around sharply, ready to make a quick getaway if he suspected anyone coming. It was unbecoming, to say the least, of a celebrated Elven fighter to be seen sitting around cooking (and failing in the attempt), and getting all frustrated over this most mundane of tasks. Thankfully enough, the footsteps soon faded away as whoever it was made his way somewhere else.

Haldir sighed to himself and set about trying to do something about the unpleasant smell wafting from the supposed stew. _More like dinner leftovers after a week. _He cast an eye over the sinister mound of books and winced. It had seemed so easy to just follow a recipe. Anyone could do it so long as you could read it. Actually experimenting with this particular fine art, however, had proven him sadly, drastically and tragically wrong. Haldir kicked himself inwardly for ever trying cooking in the first place.

Kicking himself, however, would be like running through a meadow of daisies as compared to the sound he heard next. The same sound that made Erestor shiver in his shoes, and Lord Elrond age a hundred years with worry within two seconds flat.

Twins were laughing.

More specifically, Lord Elrond's twins were laughing. And what made Haldir _really _tremble was that the seemingly wholesome, innocent sound was coming from right over his shoulder.

"Look what we've got here! Haldir's trying to cook!" Elrohir was always one for pointing out the obvious.

"And failing miserably, at that. Honestly, Haldir, you could industrialize a city of orcs with the books you've got here." Elladan was only just a notch more analytical than his brother.

Haldir, unfortunately, was far too petrified to hear anything.

-

Estel trudged heavily back to his room, eager for a rest after the morning's training. He stopped momentarily to console, albeit unsuccessfully, a spluttering and desperate Erestor, who seemed convinced that Haldir had been kidnapped by Estel's adopted brothers. While he knew that Erestor had never quite fully recovered from his brothers' most recent attack on him, Estel thought it just a bit silly, not to mention unjustified, to automatically assume that anyone who couldn't be found in a minute's searching had been abducted by them. He shook his head and laughed to himself at Erestor's silliness, but continued on his way.

-

Haldir looked piteously at the soup pot he'd been using, as if imploring it for aid. The pot wasn't bubbling quite so happily any longer, presumably because of the numerous atrocities the twins had flung into it. The brew now contained several purgatory herbs, a few foul-smelling medicinal leaves and many others that he dared not even think about. The smell had worsened fivefold as compared to before, but the twins didn't seem to mind.

"A small dash of pepper, everyone loves a bit of spice," Elrohir threw in a packet of pepper as large and as thick as a man's palm.

" I _think_ this is one of the exotic spices one of the servants brought back from her trip somewhere" Elladan poked a strip of a toxic-looking red plant into the pot.

Haldir blanched. He hoped the twins were too engrossed in trying to smoke all of Rivendell out of their homes, to notice if he tried to escape.

They weren't.

-

"Now now, Haldir, we've made this oh-so-enticing soup and we can't finish it all ourselves." The evil-smelling murky green concoction was enough to turn any man's stomach. The twins seemed unaffected. But then again, thought Haldir, they weren't men.

The potion bubbled ferociously in the ladle. Haldir, beneath his terror, wondered to himself how anything as destructive as the Twins of Rivendell could possibly have actually created any life, as they seemed to have done with this... _lively..._ green stew.

His mind was soon turned to more pressing matters, however, as the large spoon hovered ever closer to his face, followed closely by the sadistic grin Elrohir had taken so many years to perfect.

-

It was to Haldir's immense gratitude that a guard burst through the doorway at this moment, rescuing him from the odious green _thing_ that spilled onto the floor, sizzling contentedly.

Two more guards seemingly assimilated out of thin air, in the other doorway leading into the room. There they caught hold of two fleeing elves and hauled them away, in the direction of the Lord's study.

-

Slightly later in the afternoon, a couple of tired sons were seated at a table, faced with two large bowls of steaming green broth.

"He didn't have to yell quite so loud. I bet that woke half of Middle- Earth."

"Well, volume is the only thing he can vary now. I mean, responsibility and sensibility and all that. What haven't we heard before?"

A loud rap on the table soon shut them up, and they resigned themselves to scowling at the broth, and at the shaken but very satisfied Haldir seated opposite them.

He'd never felt more grateful to the Lord. Or to Erestor, whom he'd heard had gotten every off-duty guard to conduct a search for him. Haldir made a mental note to thank the counsellor personally after he'd finished the task at hand.

-

On his way to the afternoon meal, Estel noted a faint smell floating through the corridor. Slowing down to see where it came from, he craned his head this way and that, but couldn't find a clue as to what it might be. He wrinkled his nose with some distaste, but hurried on to the dining hall. He was hungry, and forgot the smell soon enough, as he remembered that he hadn't seen his brothers heading for lunch.

Oh well. They probably had some reason of their own, if they chose not to turn up. It wasn't his fault if they got hungry later. And perhaps if he remembered, he'd ask them, or Erestor, if they knew anything about the unusual whiff he'd noticed on his way to lunch.

END.

**A/N: I took a while to finish this, I was distracted by several other things, mainly the chocolate I have lying on the desk. But I finally finished it! Review if you like it, though I'm afraid I've lost my touch from the year of non-practice. Review also if you're kind enough to point out areas of improvement, just avoid flaming. Thanks to all who've followed this fic long enough to see this!**


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